He gradually became afraid of interacting with the outside world, afraid of being judged by others, but for the sake of his livelihood, he couldn't give up writing...
Asking Dylan to design those exquisite, intricately connected plotlines was something he couldn't do. But asking him to lower his standards and pride to join those simplistic, easy-to-understand popular novels, he felt it wasn't worth it.
So, he could only maintain his increasingly distorted style, clinging to a half-dead existence...
In his disappointment, he picked up the habit of heavy drinking.
Alcohol, hormones, and the deafening music of bustling nightclubs... Only by immersing his body and mind in these brain-harming substances could he briefly forget the self whose talent had dried up.
He called it seeking inspiration, but his deteriorating mental state made it difficult for him to sustain even the most basic creative work.
Excessive alcohol can obviously damage a person's intelligence, and alcoholics, due to their declining intelligence, often cannot realize it. Thus forming a vicious cycle.
...Another night of wild drunkenness.
Amidst the joyful crowd, Dylan faintly caught a unique and sweet body scent, indescribable, feeling an unprecedented physical and mental relaxation.
In his daze, a strand of dark hair drifted before his eyes... He looked back along the soft, lustrous hair and saw a beautiful dancer.
She wore the silk robes of the Sand-Flow Nation, Attilan, her skin a healthy wheat color, her figure agile and slender, like a coiling water snake.
"Miss, you're getting a bit too close..."
The dancer's body was already so close to Dylan that he could feel the warmth of her skin through the silk gauze.
Although he wasn't an inexperienced innocent and quite enjoyed this... he still offered a polite reminder.
"Is that so?"
The dancer didn't distance herself because of Dylan's lack of tact. Instead, she moved even closer. Her moist, delicate lips approached Dylan's ear, leaving a strand of warm breath.
"But I think our distance can be even closer..."
"This, there are too many people here..."
Dylan had never been treated with such enthusiasm by a beautiful girl before. In his panic, he inexplicably felt a flicker of yearning for distant Attilan.
Is this the custom of a foreign country? It's really too stimulating...
"Right here." The dancer pouted slightly with playful annoyance, seeming particularly insistent on this one point.
"Well then..."
Under the influence of alcohol and hormones, Dylan became excited. He licked his lips and agreed to the dancer's suggestion.
The dancer embraced Dylan contentedly, her smile brilliant and pure.
"Enjoy tonight, sir. Let's shorten our distance further. Intimately attached, or rather, become one..."
...
"Ah... Where is this? Is it already the next day?"
Dylan woke up, his face filled with the emptiness and fatigue of a hangover. He shook his head, clearing it slightly, then frowned.
He saw the bustling crowd around him and the many exhibits housed in glass cases.
Norlington Central Museum? How did he get here? Wasn't he at a fun party last night? Who dumped him in this academic place?
That dancer from last night, her delicate skin and soft waist were truly unforgettable to the extreme. Just reminiscing about them was intoxicating. To the point where Dylan felt a sense of unreality, as if that beautiful encounter was just a fantasy conjured by the alcohol.
But the face of that foreign dancer was so real, as if carved into his mind. Such exquisite features, how could he possibly fabricate them out of thin air with his nearly depleted imagination?
"Not sure what's going on, but I should head home first... My head aches a bit; I need to lie down in bed some more."
Dylan rubbed his temples, but the dizzy sensation from the hangover didn't lessen in the slightest; instead, it grew stronger.
Pale-faced, he walked over to an exhibit, reaching out to support himself on the wide glass case. A few cold beads of sweat slid down his face.
Why do I feel so nauseous? Gag, no, this is the White Cup Cult's Central Museum. If I vomit here...
"Sir, you cannot lean on the exhibit cases."
A Burial Attendant on patrol noticed his unusual state and immediately stepped forward to remind him.
But Dylan was completely unable to suppress the overwhelming wave of dizziness. He slumped to his knees, vomiting violently.
"Sorry, I'm feeling a bit, unwell... Gag... Gag..."
What he vomited wasn't food residue mixed with the stench of alcohol, but crimson fresh blood.
Like a gushing spring, an immense amount of blood plasma uncontrollably overflowed from his throat.
The last image in Dylan's consciousness was a slender, long arm reaching out from his own mouth.
(T/N: Rose Bishop?)
Like a tender sprout unfurling, like a bright flower bud blooming, like a summer cicada molting, beautiful beyond description...
The dancer's pure white silk gown was already dyed red, but she paid no mind to any of it.
Her delicate, slender feet adorned with silver bells stepped into the sticky pool of blood, like a solo dancer isolated on a stage.
"Welcome, all guests of the Plum Moon Festival, to the feast of my Master."
Sines bowed to everyone around her, seemingly a courtesy before the dance.
"All action teams, prepare! Target from 'Red Cup' sighted! Near B Area, Exhibit 07!"
The Burial Attendant who had approached Dylan earlier naturally noticed the abnormality before her.
She contacted the other participating Secrets-Hunters at the fastest speed possible, then drew her pistol, aiming at Sines who was still bowing...
But the blood pool spreading under the dancer's feet suddenly rose like spiked thorns, piercing through the Burial Attendant's chest, lifting her high before smashing her into the blood pool.
[Blood-Wielding], a Second-Category, Upper-Tier secret art of the Red Cup cult. Can coagulate fresh, living blood plasma with vitality into various forms, with a maximum strength approaching that of steel.
"Too slow, little sister. After you chose to contact others in the first instant, you shouldn't have attempted an attack."
Sines stroked her own neck, her expression carrying a peculiar intoxication.
"The other sister was much more decisive than you. In an instant I couldn't even react to, she sent two blades into my carotid artery and heart... Such exquisite pain, I'm afraid it will take me many years to fully savor it."
"There's an evil spawn here! Quick, run!"
The people around them, witnessing this bloody scene, immediately screamed and began frantically fleeing in all directions.
"Run, please run faster, children. Maintain your vitality..."
The blood pool at Sines's feet spread swiftly across the floor, like an encroaching deep red shadow. Those who couldn't run fast enough fell into it, dissolving into a puddle of bone and blood.
"Bang!" Secrets-Hunters who received the alert arrived one after another, beginning to pour firepower onto Sines.
The Secrets-Hunter prayer scriptures inscribed on the steel-core bullets flickered with blue-green light upon hitting her body, causing intense scorching. But the deep red blood plasma surrounding the dancer wrapped around her entire body like a layered cocoon.
Back then, Haida was able to assassinate Sines easily because Sines was completely unprepared. Caught off guard in a psychological blind spot by an overwhelming surprise attack, she couldn't even mount an effective counterattack.
But when Sines was fully prepared... she would show everyone what a "High Priestess" truly was.
Sines's slender figure was enveloped by the layered, cocoon-like blood plasma, resembling a deep red flower blooming wantonly.
"Dear guests. Release your desires, embrace me, let us together become the bone and blood within the cup, become part of this endless feast..."
Sines began her wild, solitary dance.
The dripping blood formed a curtain, faintly concealing her enchanting figure. Her body was as soft as clouds, yet as agile as a butterfly.
"Embed the restraining stakes to halt the further spread of [Blood-Wielding]."
Alwin stood with his hands behind his back, coldly watching the passionately dancing Sines. His burly figure now stood like a towering wall, unmoving even as the blood pool lapped at his feet.
"Bang!"
Several Orthodox Hunters wielding specially designed crossbows on the second-floor sniper points pulled their triggers. Silver-tipped stake-arrows tore through the air with a piercing shriek.
The stakes pierced into the blood pool. The stakes' bodies glowed red-hot with high temperature, causing the surrounding blood plasma to boil violently.
The blood pool truly stopped spreading, as if nailed to the marble floor.
"Even with only half a High Priestess, it's still so difficult to guard against... After all, this is a suicide attack."
Alwin's expression was stern and resolute, his gaze fixed tightly on Sines.
Even though the Secrets-Hunters detected Sines the moment she appeared, she still caused significant casualties... but this is close combat against a High Priestess; casualties were inevitable.
This was an acceptable cost.
"Activate the museum's [Suppress Consciousness] and [Deconstruct Biology] rituals... Then just wait for 'him' to arrive."
Alwin issued his final order to his subordinates beside him, then turned and left the scene without looking back, seemingly having deemed it unnecessary to watch further.
Two large Second-Category rituals within the museum unfolded one after another. Esoteric, hard-to-utter prayer scriptures flickering with faint light spots faintly emerged from beneath the marble floor, locking onto Sines's blood cocoon.
….
"Very classic Second-Category ritual styles. Probably prepared when the museum was first built..."
Hidden in the shadow of a second-floor pillar, Fran looked down, calmly appreciating the evolving battle. Her gaze was gentle and detached, with no desire to intervene... because it was unnecessary.
Sines would die soon.
The Secrets-Hunters and the White Cup set a trap, waiting for Sines to come, and she indeed gladly attended. Those who set the trap knew that once she stepped in, her death was certain. As for herself... she was equally clear about this.
Vivian looked at the two people currently watching the excitement with great ease, momentarily puzzled.
It was somewhat understandable that Dr. Fran did nothing; after all, she wasn't part of the Secrets-Hunter or White Cup official structure. And her personality itself was elusive; nothing she did was strange.
But why are you, Sister Haida, also just watching?
In Vivian's impression, based on Haida's past habits... she should have already rushed to the front lines, ready to have her folding knife get intimate with the cultist.
But now she was just standing beside Fran, choosing a good vantage point to observe the battle, taking no action.
Had she contracted some strange psychological disease from Dr. Fran...
"Um, aren't we going to help?"
Vivian asked somewhat uncertainly.
"No need."
Haida and Fran answered Vivian's question in unison.
Fran smiled and tilted her head, seeming somewhat surprised by their synchronization. Then she obediently spread her hands, signaling for Haida to explain.
"Head Alwin has already left, which means the 'Chief Hunter' is about to arrive... He doesn't like being disturbed during a hunt."
Although explaining the reason to Vivian, Haida's gaze never left the dancing Sines.
She was waiting, waiting for a certain person's arrival.
...
[Suppress Consciousness] could weaken the self-awareness of biological beings within the ritual, causing the target to fall into mental weakness.
If sustained long enough, a person within the ritual would completely lose the intent for subjective action, becoming a puppet with only life.
Meanwhile, [Deconstruct Biology] could gradually decompose the target's life form, causing it to slowly revert to the most basic elements composing life... a handful of calcium powder, or a wisp of carbon ash.
Under the effect of the two large White Cup rituals, the blood pool beside Sines, already restrained by the stakes, began to continuously contract as if boiling, leaving behind charred black marks on the ground.
The gruesome blood flower quickly withered away, turning into a pillar composed of solidified scabs.
Sines tore open the solidified blood flower, wrapping still-living blood flow around her. But this blood curtain was instantly shattered under the bombardment of steel-core bullets, pierced through along with her body.
Yet she just laughed freely and wantonly, completely unconcerned about the dozens of black bullet holes on her body.
Sines placed her hands on her navel. Her moist nails slid up and down, splitting the skin along the navel line, exposing the bright red flesh beneath.
Blood vessels and tendons intertwined and knotted together, like swarming worms, or like some kind of active prayer scripture.
The two large rituals in the museum immediately became unstable, their effects greatly diminished. They couldn't even restrain Sines anymore...
"It's a ritual! Sines inscribed a ritual under her own skin. No, it should be said... she is a mobile ritual!"
A White Cup Error-Purger identified the abnormality on Sines.
But the Red Cup prayer scriptures purely constructed from flesh and blood were far too esoteric; he couldn't discern the ritual's specific name.
Moreover, the ritual she inscribed on her own flesh held a higher mystic tier, causing the White Cup Second-Category rituals' effects on her to drastically weaken.
"Guests, witness His descent with me! Receive divine grace!"
The ritual inscribed on Sines's body blocked all attacks targeting her, whether secret arts or bullets. Even without knowing its name, one could feel its overwhelming presence... obscure, vast, carrying a trace of unfathomable majesty.
The museum's ceiling began to be stained by sticky, filthy blood, as if ready to rain down blood at any moment.
"What on earth is this..."
+++
T/N: Hey readers~! New Translator here! Before I say anything, I'd first like to thank the original author for creating this wonderful story. Without them, I wouldn't have the chance to share this adventure with you. I hope my translation does justice to their work, and that together, we can enjoy this story.
With that said, I'm happy to let you know I'll be uploading daily chapters. And for those who wish to support my work and gain early access, I've set up a Patreon where advanced chapters will be available.
[email protected]/PeakTL